


A Thousand Times Over

by MaesFlowers



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-18 06:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7304011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaesFlowers/pseuds/MaesFlowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Prior to CoHF*<br/>Just some Malec fluff with a happy ending</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Times Over

        “Alec, are you sure about this?” Jace asked, sounding more concerned than I’ve ever heard him before. Even more than when he talked about Clary. I stuff more clothes into my suitcase.  
        “Look Jace, I already have everything planned out. I’m eighteen now. I can choose where I want to live,” I say a little sharply, but that’s the only way to get through to him.  
        “And that’s without me? Without Izzy and Maryse? Without…” he trails off, but we both know what he was thinking. Without Magnus? At one point in time, that would’ve frozen me in my steps. In fact, I wouldn’t have even thought about leaving if it meant abandoning him. But not anymore. The reason that Jace didn’t know was that I was leaving the New York Institute because of Magnus. I couldn’t walk out anymore without seeing something that reminded me of him. I couldn’t stay barricaded in my room anymore; Izzy is getting worried. But even inside I thought about him. I can’t count how many times I didn’t sleep for days. How many times I stayed in my room all day, waiting by the phone, waiting for him to call, wondering if I should call him. I got so close one time: nine digits. I couldn’t bring myself to type the tenth number in. I had slammed the receiver down hard enough that Church sprung up from my bed and raced out of the room. Church had taken even more of a liking since mine and Magnus’s break up, following me wherever I went, sleeping on my bed when I was awake, lying at the foot when I passed out from exhaustion. Though I enjoyed the company sometimes, he reminded me of Chairman Meow, and Chairman Meow reminded me of…  
        I slammed my suitcase lid and slid the zipper shut with one quick motion, shutting the memories with them. I turned to Jace, who was hunched over in a chair on the far side of the room. He was staring at me, with those big gold eyes I had once fell in love with. At least I thought it was love, until…  
        “Jace, I have to go.”  
        “No, you don’t. You’re not supposed to go where I cannot. _Whither thou goest, I will go._ Those were the words we promised each other.” To make his point, he rolled up his sleeve where his parabatai rune is. “Don’t do this to me,” he begged, his voice thick with sorrow, his eyes showing with grief I didn’t know he could show. I looked away.  
        “You can come with me,” I said, studying a particularly large crack in the wall. “I could postpone leaving until you get permission too.”  
        “Alec, you know I can’t leave.” I did know. Like I had no choice but to leave, he had no choice but to stay. He couldn’t leave Clary. He was as in love with her as I was with Magnus. I took a deep, shaky breath, and turned back to Jace. He was still watching me, his eyes glassed. It hurt me worse than any wound to see him like this; pained, defeated. Ever since I had told him I was leaving, he asked me again and again if I would stay. Only later on that day did I finally realize that I still did love him. I loved him more than I did Izzy or I had Max. He was much more than my brother. He ran his fingers through his hair, fixing his eyes on the floor. I picked up my suitcase and marched out of the room. He knew I left; he didn’t stop me; he knew there was nothing left he could do. That was our good-bye.  
        I walked out of the Institute and hailed a cab.  
~*~

        “Flight 304 to London is boarding,” said the lady over the intercom of the airport. I grabbed my bag and headed to the boarding area. It was slow moving; the airport was packed to the brim of people going, coming. I could barely hear my own thoughts over the noise. I was going to the London Institute, one of the oldest Institutes there was. Maybe I can meet new people. The head of the Institute, Harry Branwell, is supposed to be really good. Though, I had met Imogen and I didn’t like her that much. I was in line now, waiting to put my bag on the conveyor belt. Ten people, nine, eight. I looked around. So many people. So many languages I didn’t recognize. Seven, six, five. How was I even going to find the London Institute? Would someone be there with a sign with my name on it like I see here? Four, three, two. Just as I put my bag on the belt, everything stops. The machines stop, the people cease to chatter. I am the only one to not be frozen. I spin on my heel, readying myself to fight. I couldn’t bring any weapons with me; all I have is my stele. Like that will help.  
        “Alexander Gideon Lightwood! What the _hell_ do you think you are doing!” someone screams distantly. I straitened, blinking rapidly as if I had just woken from a dream. I know that voice. The voice that has haunted me for months.  
        “Magnus? Magnus, is that you?” I call out. Blue sparks erupt in the sky a few yards away. Then he is over me, exactly the way I remember him. Blue eye shadow, parted wet lips, dark ripped clothing, oval yellow cat eyes, shaggy jet black hair with blue tips. My breath hitches in my throat. I can’t breathe, my face is on fire. I feel like I’m going to pass out. As I feel my knees buckle, he grabs onto me, clutching my arms so tight I feel his fingernails dug into my skin through my clothing.  
        And then he is kissing me.  
        It is rough and brief, his lips connecting with mine for only a moment. But it feels like it did the first time; electricity is the only way to describe it. Hundreds and hundreds of volts course through my body, freezing me to the spot like my surroundings. He pulls back, his eyes staring into mine. I stand there, panting. His face is flushed, and I’m sure mine is too.  
        “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He pulls me into him, wrapping his arms around me. We fit together perfectly, my head in his neck, his arms on the small of my back, squeezing me. “I’m so sorry,” he murmurs in my ear. I can feel his breath on my neck, my ear, my face. It soothes me. I wrap my arms around him too. “Please don’t leave. I can’t lose you again. I would break into a million pieces, and I couldn’t be put back together. Can you forgive me?”  
        “You have nothing to be forgiven of. Can you forgive me?” I mumble back. He pulls me in harder, and picks me up, my feet leaving the ground with the exception of my toes.  
        “A hundred times over, my love.” He pulls back, and I see his eyes are watering, as are mine. He snaps his fingers, and I turn to watch my bag float in the air momentarily, then disappear. I look at him quizzically.  
        “It shall be waiting for us. We have to go see Jace. He’s absolutely hysterical.” He is no longer speaking in an undertone, but not exactly normal either.  
        “Jace? Hysterical? I believe you are pulling my leg,” I say, wrapping my arm around his waist as we walk through the airport.  
        He shrugs. “Maybe I exaggerated just a little. It’s not every day I get to see a good looking boy.”  
        “Oh,” I say, looking down at my shoelaces.  
        He pulls us to a stop. “I’m talking about you, you know that, right?”  
        I don’t say anything, but I’m sure the flush on my face deepened color. He smiles and laughs, and we walk, hand in hand, outside. Only when we were in a cab did I realize something.  
        “Magnus, did you unfreeze those people?” He looks at me with mischievous eyes.  
        “What would make you think that?”  
        “Magnus.”  
        He sighs, but smiles and snaps his fingers. “Happy now?” I lean into him, brushing my hand across his face.  
        “I am. But not because of those people.” I lean in even further and kiss him, moving my hand to grasp his neck. He grabs my shirt and deepens the kiss. I moan softly, the electricity reaching every part of my body, down to my finger tips and toes.  
        I never want this to end.  
        I can’t live without him.  
        I’m never letting him go again.

**Author's Note:**

> So there you go guys! Malec one-shot! Kinda more of my mushy side, I know, but its Malec. There might not be a limit of mushiness. I have absolutely no idea about the whole Harry Branwell head of Institute thing, I just made that up. I hope you guys enjoyed it!


End file.
